


The King’s Duty

by CapnShellhead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnShellhead/pseuds/CapnShellhead
Summary: T’Challa has many responsibilities.





	The King’s Duty

**Author's Note:**

> My first IronPanther fic! Here’s a short smutty fic. Hope you all like it! 
> 
> 7 blessings to Yacky for looking it over!

It had been a rough day. 

T’Challa has had rough days before but this one was monumentally awful. It started with a three AM wake up call because of a fire in one of the nearby small towns. Tony had stirred, yawning adorably and offered to go in T’Challa’s stead but T’Challa waved him off. This was his responsibility, his outer territory. He suited up and went to see what he could do. 

When they’d finished up around eight AM, he thought he could crawl back into bed with his consort but duty called again. One of Erik’s crew members got their hands on some of Shuri’s stolen tech and T’Challa had to go hunt them down. They dropped it before he could get a hold of them and, to top it all off, they found evidence that it’d been modified. So, not only was his sister’s tech out there in the wrong hands. It was potentially even more dangerous and most likely unstable. 

Finally, he was able to come back around two PM when he was sure Tony was awake and geeking out over science with Shuri. He was at the doorstep when he got another call about Erik himself at one of the nearby factories. Sighing, he raced over only to find that it was a false alarm and he had missed out on another one of Tony’s few days in Wakanda. 

As king and as the Black Panther, T’Challa had a job to do and he knew there would be days like this.

Knowing didn’t make it any easier to deal with. 

Now, it’s late. Around the time he’d woken up in the first place and he’s shuffling tiredly through the halls. He can just imagine Tony as he left him; warm and curled up on T’Challa’s pillow. T’Challa’s because it smelled like him and it was the better of the two, in Tony’s opinion. He smiles to himself, pulling off his helmet as he enters his bedroom. 

Tony was lying on his bed, as he thought but he wasn’t curled up. He’d fallen asleep on his stomach on top of the covers, bare. His tanned body was stretched out, one leg hiked up as he slept, his hair in a mess at the head of the bed. There were rose petals on the floor and he could see candles on the bedside table. 

T’Challa knows he should feel flattered that Tony went through the trouble. They’d spoken about this before; while T’Challa liked making the effort to dress up and go out, Tony was different. He didn’t need that stuff; he could get by just fine with eating pasta in sweats and T’Challa bending him over the workstation in his lab. They compromised and agreed to split the difference. Sometimes Tony dressed up and took T’Challa out and sometimes T’Challa pulled on some sweats and let Tony introduce him to bad movies. It worked; it was pleasant. They were some of the only days T’Challa got to feel like himself. 

So, he should be happy Tony went through the trouble but instead, he was just frustrated. Tony only had a week in Wakanda and the first day they’d fucked on every flat surface. The second day, T’Challa had to work. And today, Black Panther had to work. He’d wasted two of Tony’s days here and who knows if tomorrow would be more of the same? He feels… annoyed, pissed off and seeing how good Tony looks spread out on his sheets isn’t helping. 

He drops his helmet on the floor and comes over to the bed. Tony shifts in his sleep; his hips rising and drawing T’Challa’s attention back to his ass. Tanned, toned, soft to the touch. He knew what it felt like to lay his palms on it, spread it open and slide his cock inside of it. He knew what it felt like to spend hours stretching it out and then to slide in afterwards when Tony was soft and pliable and more asleep than awake. He knew what it felt like to hit that spot inside of him and feel Tony squeeze tight around him as he came. All of that was wonderful but T’Challa had a plan and he’d been thinking about it all day. 

He comes closer and kneels on the bed. He reaches up with his clawed hand and palms Tony’s lower back. He carefully maneuvers Tony to pull him down and gets down on his stomach. Tony stirs, mumbling, “Hey Kitty Cat, when did you get back?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that, Tony?” T’Challa asks with a tired smile. Tony hums and lets himself be pulled closer to the end of the bed. “A few minutes ago.”

“Hmm, what are you doing?”

T’Challa spread his gloved hands over Tony’s ass, watching it move with T’Challa’s motions. He couldn’t resist leaning down and biting Tony’s left cheek. The slight pain making Tony gasp in surprise. “I’ve been thinking about this ass all day.” His claws dig in a little as he spreads Tony open. His pucker is tight but relaxes beneath his fingerpad. 

“The claws, babe,” Tony murmurs as T’Challa rubs the pad of his finger over Tony’s entrance. Even with the warning, Tony’s hole is soft and pliable. Moving beneath T’Challa’s finger like it was trying to draw it in. T’Challa groans, his mouth watering as he thinking about how Tony’s ass will respond to his tongue. 

“Don’t worry, Tony. I don’t plan to use my hands,” T’Challa says as he settles down comfortably on his stomach. He spreads Tony open further, his claws leaving little red marks on Tony’s skin as he leans in and tentatively laves his tongue over the tight pucker. Tony sucks in a breath, his legs spreading wider for him. T’Challa does it again, a slower slide to really feel Tony’s hole contract beneath his tongue. He noses into the crease, his hands holding Tony still as he squirms. 

“T’Challa,” he pants, his ass bounding up for a moment as he adjusts and pushes himself further in the clawed hands. T’Challa tongue at the opening with the tip, stabs at it until Tony’s breathes in and relaxes more. Another broad swipe and Tony’s crying out, pushing back as T’Challa sucks at his rim. It wasn’t often he ate Tony without sticking his fingers inside but he was curious about how long Tony would last before he begged. He licks and sucks at the rim, nibbling on the soft skin at the edge until Tony’s whimpering above and T’Challa has to pull back to hold him still. 

He waits, listens to Tony whine and says, “Are you going to be still now?”

Tony nods, humming in agreement even as he shivers beneath T’Challa’s hands. “I will. I promise.”

T’Challa lets him suffer for another two minutes before leaning back in, his tongue sliding over the slick hole. He pulls back to study it now, his stomach twisting at the slickness, the greedy way it tenses and relaxes. He knows Tony likes to feel full; maybe even more than T’Challa likes feeling Tony grip his cock. If he stuck a couple of fingers inside of him, Tony would come rather quickly. He smacks Tony’s ass lightly and lifts him up so he can get a look at the genius’ cock.

It bounds slightly, heavy and leaking a thin line of precome into T’Challa sheets. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks teasingly, sliding his gloved hand down the center of Tony’s ass. He’s careful, doesn’t want to scratch him too hard but when his fingered passes over Tony’s slick hole, Tony bucks forward, dribbling more precome. “Yes, I think you could come just like this. On my tongue. Would you like that?” He leans in and swipes his tongue over Tony’s entrance once more. Tony groans, pushes back instantly and T’Challa rewards him with a few more swipes. 

“T’Challa, please,” Tony begs, pushing back as T’Challa’s tongue stabs into him again. His hands spread Tony wider, makes it easier for him to bury his face in. He can hear himself babbling but can’t stop himself. “I need to come. Please, baby, I need to come. I need something. Your fingers, your cock, anything. Please,” he whines and T’Challa hums in sympathy. 

“Need to be full,” he finishes before burying his face in again. His tongue drags over Tony’s loose entrance. He wonders if he could just slide in easily at this point. Tony’s hole was slick with saliva, loose and inviting. T’Challa’s cock was hard, even as the suit restricted him from getting too aroused. “Be more specific, Tony. Which do you want?”

“I don’t care, baby. I don’t care. Your,” he cuts himself off to push back on T’Challa’s tongue. “Your fingers, love your fingers and your cock. I love your cock. I’ve been waiting all night thinking about it. I know you have, too.”

T’Challa laughed softly and made a tsking sound. “Greedy. Don’t worry,” he says with a soft slap to Tony’s ass. “I’ll give you what you need.” He pulls back and sets to taking off his suit. As much as he enjoyed leaving those light marks on Tony’s ass, he didn’t want to risk hurting his consort. He stripped down and kneeled behind Tony on the bed. “Do you want me to take control or do you want to ride me?”

Tony groaned, lowering his head, seriously considering it. When T’Challa took control, Tony was surprisingly submissive. He took orders well, he was affectionate and generous. He was one of the most considerate lovers T’Challa had ever had. However, when Tony took control, he was demanding and greedy. He gave as good as he got but he just couldn’t get enough of T’Challa’s cock. It was one of the things T’Challa loved about him. 

It took some time before Tony finally turned to face T’Challa and whispered, “Lie down.”

T’Challa moves to lie back against the pillows while Tony drops a leg over T’Challa’s lap. He reaches back to line T’Challa up and then slowly sinks down on T’Challa’s cock. His eyes fall closed, his chest rising softly as he breathed. He rocks gently, just letting T’Challa fill him for a moment. Then his eyes open, he meets T’Challa’s gaze and T’Challa can take the hint. “I’ll take care of you.” 

He takes hold of Tony’s waist and lifts him, feels the drag of his hole along his cock sighs. Then he pulls Tony down and pushes in deep. The force gaining a shaky moan from Tony’s lips. He pushes in again, the tight heat making his eyes fall closed but he forces himself to look at Tony’s face. Tony’s flushed, biting down on his lip as T’Challa maneuvers him into position. His cock is heavy, leaking steadily from the tip as it slaps against T’Challa’s stomach. With how hard T’Challa’s pounding into him, Tony can’t touch himself at all. He’s relegated to balancing himself on his king’s chest. By the looks of things and the quiet moans coming from his mouth, Tony likes it this way. 

“TChalla,” Tony groans, his eyes falling closed as T’Challa pushed in deep and brushed that spot inside of him. 

“Thought about this all day,” he murmured, sliding a hand up Tony’s stomach to the center of his chest. He traced the remaining scars and feels his chest tighten. Tony preferred to hide them but T’Challa liked them. They were survivors. It was in their blood. He watched Tony’s brows furrow, his hands spreading out as T’Challa shifted angles slightly. “Tell me, what did you think about while you were here all day?”

Tony started to speak as T’Challa pushed in and he broke off in a gasp. With a light glare for T’Challa, he continued, “I’m only here for a week. What do you think I thought about?” He looks at T’Challa dazedly as he continues, “God, this feels so good. I mean, my fingers were nice for a while and I have this toy I brought with me in case you had to work but this,” he ground his hips against T’Challa’s, making T’Challa buck unexpectedly. “This is perfect. So full, baby.” 

T’Challa palms Tony’s chest and lets Tony change the rhythm. He’s circling his hips more than riding him. Keeping as much of T’Challa in him as deep as he possibly can. He’s close; T’Challa can see that from the way his hands grasp at nothing on T’Challa’s stomach. It makes him want to roll them over and bury himself in that ass as much as he possibly can. He loved watching Tony lose himself and urge T’Challa to take over. He refrains for as long as he can until he really thinks about Tony spread out on his bed with his fingers stuffed inside his hungry little hole and he can’t resist. He groaned low in his throat and turns them over. 

Tony’s blinking up at him confusedly, his legs instantly wrapping around T’Challa’s waist as T’Challa steadies himself over the genius. He shifts his hips, getting the angle right before he’s pounding inside Tony relentlessly. He feels even better writhing beneath him, the drag of his hole bringing T’Challa closer to the edge. He whining, his voice wavering as he begs, “So much better than my toy. God, you’re so fucking deep, baby.” 

It stirs T’Challa on and he noses into Tony’s throat and drives him into the mattress. He can hear the springs, the headboard shaking against the wall but he doesn’t care. He can feel Tony’s cock sliding wetly against his stomach, Tony panting in his ear. Then he slides a hand down to Tony’s ass and feels the marks he left earlier and bucks his hips, Tony’s cock swelling as he comes between them. His hole clamps down on T’Challa’s cock and he groans, bears down and really grinds into Tony as he spills inside of him. He pushes in lazily a few more times, really letting Tony’s hole tense and milk his cock. 

He sighs, breathing in Tony’s scent as he closes his eyes. “This is what I’ve been wanting to do all day.”

“Me too.” Tony laughs softly and noses T’Challa’s ear. “If you’d let me help you…”

“This is my duty. I won’t pass it on to someone else.” It went unspoken that Tony was an outsider but he heard it all the same. He kissed the spot behind Tony’s ear to soften his words. “Thank you for asking.”

He shifts, getting into a more comfortable position as Tony murmurs, “You have a duty to this ass too, you know?”

T’Challa laughs, sliding his hand over the small marks he’d left on Tony’s ass. “That is one duty I will never pass on to someone else.”


End file.
